


Your Graduation

by ohitsbo



Series: You're Gonna Miss It All [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: And then they love each other spoiler alert im poly trash, Everyone Loves Oikawa Tooru but Oikawa Tooru is a Bit of an Asshole, Hints at Band AU, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Song fic, but not anything crazy, idk underaged drinking in the last chapter, im sorry for this shit storm, s u g a r
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-07-25 14:13:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7535968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohitsbo/pseuds/ohitsbo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bokuto Koutarou met Oikawa Tooru during their first year of high school.</p><p>Iwaizumi Hajime met Oikawa Tooru when they were both still sucking thumbs and sleeping in cribs.</p><p>Kuroo Tetsurou met Oikawa Tooru in the most cliche way possible.</p><p>Sugawara Koushi met Oikawa Tooru by an impulse decision.</p><p>However, none of them figure it out until his graduation and find that they might have more in common than they think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bokuto

**Author's Note:**

> So here's the deal.  
> I've been working on a longer piece for months now and doing a lot (I mean a lot) of editing, during of which I've obviously come up with different ideas for different fics.  
> I like to listen to Modern Baseball. It's a hobby of mine. And so I thought why not make an AU of the entirety of the album "You're Gonna Miss It All" over the course of a 6-hour plane trip. I finally got around to writing it down.  
> This! Song! I love it so much! It was basically the basis of the AU!  
> It isn't edited at all, which is really weird for me. Just a heads up.
> 
> WHoop here it IS

Bokuto Koutarou met Oikawa Tooru during their first year of high school.

Hopping from foot to foot, new sneakers squeaking against the gym floor, the owl-haired first year scanned the room, itching to judge some books by their covers.

A tall boy stood to his left (not as tall as Bokuto, obviously, but tall enough) with shaggy brown hair and an intimidating air around him. Dangerous, Bokuto assumed. Next to him stood a much taller, stoic, white-haired man. Then a smirking boy with bad black bed-head. A boy with a kind smile and gray hair. A bald-headed shorty with a grin full of excitement. A scowling, short black haired man. And then of course…

Bokuto faltered when his eyes landed on Oikawa. Maybe it was the way his eyes glinted with something all too knowing. Maybe it was the soft brown locks of hair falling perfectly to frame his face. Maybe it was his well-built body, his chiseled jaw, the way he looked way too pretty to be their age, must less an unknown high school student. Yes, Bokuto faltered but he was quick to regain awareness of where he was, and how staring slack-jawed at another teammate wasn’t exactly socially acceptable.

They were introduced to their seniors, introduced to the volleyball club as a whole, and introduced to their teammates.

 _Oikawa Tooru,_ Bokuto thought, _A beautiful name for a beautiful person!_

And hell, Oikawa could serve a ball. Bokuto may have held amazing power in his spikes, but Oikawa had precision behind his serves. Despite not having had worked with each other for even a day, they functioned together like a well-oiled machine. And, after a few weeks of working as a pair, during practice and after, Bokuto felt like Oikawa was still improving. What Oikawa had was more than raw talent; It was dedication. When every session drew to a close (even those interrupted by a scolding Iwaizumi Hajime), he walked home with a silly grin, the image of Oikawa’s face still fresh in his mind.

It wasn’t until a few months later that he found Oikawa hunched over in the locker room, a shaking figure of a thing. His head was buried into his towel as if it would do anything to disguise the muffled sobs ripping themselves from the huddled boy. Bokuto approached slowly, not exactly knowing what to do. How to comfort people. Things like these never came easily to him, which was a large part of the reason what friends he had didn't confine in him. He couldn’t empathize the way they wanted him to, and any attempt at console was futile. Nevertheless, he sat down next to Oikawa and wrapped an arm around his shaking shoulders, pulling him close.

Oikawa paused.

Bokuto paused as well. Was this really the appropriate reaction? What if Oikawa just wanted to be left alone or maybe he should say something or maybe he should get Iwaizumi to comfort him instead, they knew each other better after all, or maybe-

But Oikawa relaxed into him, letting the towel drop and revealing a mess of snot and tears.

“Hey, hey, Oikawa. How’s it going, my guy?” Bokuto said with a start, all too loud and all too casual, but Oikawa smiled anyway.

“Not so good, Bokuto."

A pause. 

"Have you… Have you ever wished that a certain night never happened, like you wish it was a dream or a hallucination or something? Maybe because you don’t want it to be true or maybe because it feels so much like one that you can’t help but second guess reality.”

Bokuto grinned weakly, “Can’t say I have. Sounds like it sucks, though, man. Do you want to maybe talk about it or-”

“I’d love to talk about it, thank you.” Oikawa cut him off, sliding closer to the floor, “Bokuto, tell me this. What are you supposed to do when your best friend tells you he loves you?”

“I guess it'd depend on whether or not I love him back, you know?

Oikawa sighed exasperatedly, and Bokuto couldn't tell if it’s because of him or the situation itself. “Okay, but what if you’ve never even considered the possibility that he was gay or… if _you_ could be gay? What if it’s all crashing down on you and you wonder if what you’re feeling is disgust or pity or guilt or requital? What if you ran out of the house after he told you and haven’t said a word to him all day, marinating in this shit show of a revelation and what if you know that it’s not fair to him but you can’t muster up the motivation to just talk to the guy. I mean for god's sake you’ve never had to motivate yourself to talk to him ever, in all 14 years you’ve been friends with him it’s always been easy but now, after that one night, after those three words nothing will ever be back to normal.”

Oikawa gasped into another cry, hands clutching desperately for his towel but Bokuto grabbed it from him before he could cover his face with it. Bokuto turned his body parallel and pulled Oikawa into a tight hug, the same kind of hug that can knock the breath out of someone but warm them up from skin to core.

“I’ve never been in your situation, never even come close, really, but I’m sure it’s not the end of the world. You’ll talk to each other, right? You’ll work this out and by the end of it, you’ll both be happy. I can believe that more than I can believe anything. You’re an incredible person, Oikawa. Amazing. Fantastic. Beautiful. And if anyone can get past this, it’s you.”

Oikawa let out a shuddering breath and sunk into Bokuto’s body, allowing himself be enveloped by the mass of the man.

“If you don’t mind,” Oikawa spoke slowly, each exhale of air bringing itself together into a gradual thought, “Can I try something?”

Bokuto’s heart skipped a beat, “Anything to make you feel better, yeah.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Oikawa didn’t hesitate to speak this time, whipping his head up so his eyes could meet Bokuto’s, “It’s okay if you don’t want to, but I want to try it out. And if I have to kiss any man, I’d certainly not protest kissing one that looks like you.”

Bokuto laughed, “I’m great, aren’t I? Let’s kiss! Let’s do it! Let’s-”

Oikawa reached two palms to grab at the nape of Bokuto’s neck and pull him down roughly, smashing both sets of lips together, noses bumping painfully. It hurt, but it also sent an electric shock through Bokuto’s chest that he couldn’t recover from. He hurried to grasp onto Oikawa’s shirt.

Despite his initial fever, Oikawa slowed down, turning his head to the left to give himself a better angle, sliding their lips together with something a little bit more intimate. Bokuto practically bloomed in happiness, letting his hands reach up to play with Oikawa’s curls. Oikawa sighed in contentment, fingertips brushing Bokuto’s neck once more before traveling down to his chest, mapping out each curve of his muscles. They stayed like that for a while, neither daring to go any farther but enjoying what they had. Bokuto can’t say for sure how long it was before they parted. Long enough for Oikawa’s tears to dry. Long enough for the sun to give its position over to the moon. Long enough for his mother to leave three voicemails to his phone. But finally, they separated, both breathing heavily and staring at the other’s mouths in wonder. _Yeah, that was just on my lips. I was just kissing. That doesn’t happen every day._

Oikawa giggled and stood up from Bokuto’s lap (how long had he been sitting there?).

“Thank you for helping me figure some things out for myself, Kou-chan! I have to be going now, it’s awfully late, but I look forward to seeing you in practice tomorrow!” With a wink and a careless wave behind him, Oikawa was off.

Bokuto realized, watching Oikawa’s receding back skip out of the locker room, that he was a little bit in love with the brown-eyed boy. And, luckily for him, that night wasn’t where it ended.

Oikawa didn’t follow a specific pattern. It was whenever he was in a certain mood, it seemed. But when he was in the mood, he made it well known, dragging Bokuto into the locker rooms and kissing him senseless. Every single session, the two of them would get a little more adventurous. Tongues. Ears. Hickeys. Thighs. Borderline explicit and goddamn dirty. Only calling it a day whenever Oikawa wanted to call it a day. Bokuto was, frankly, scared to end it on his own, mind reeling at the possibility that one day, a typical practice could become their last. When would Oikawa get bored and move on?

Bokuto overheard him once, after all, talking to a friend of his, another teammate.

Iwaizumi Hajime had Oikawa in a headlock, the latter of which spluttering out random yelps of “Iwa-chan!” and “So mean!”

When he deemed his punishment for whatever adequite, he stopped, pushing Oikawa away from him and shouting, “How long are you planning on leading the poor bastard on?”

Oikawa paused, frowned slightly, and responded in a playful tone: “Just because you’re salty about your confession, Iwa-chan, doesn’t mean you get to dictate who I play around with!”

Iwaizumi threw a punch at the other’s head, who dodged narrowly. “Who said anything about my confession, you asshole? Bokuto’s a good kid, but you know how his emotions affect him, on and off the court. If your little ‘game’ ends up hurting the team…”

Oikawa chuckled, skipping towards the door of their court, singing behind him a simple, “Don’t worry so much, Iwa-chan. You’ll get wrinkles!” And exiting, narrowly missing Bokuto as he shuffled out of sight.

Sure enough, a few weeks later, Oikawa approached him with a sad smile on his face.

“Kou-chan, you know how much fun our little practices have been, but I’m gonna have to call them off for now. You see, I’ve got my eyes set on someone very special! Not that you aren’t ridiculously handsome and a wonderful partner, but I can’t be kissing someone when I’m pining after another! Sorry, Kou-chan, I hope you can forgive me!”

Bokuto forgave him, of course, almost instantly.

But that didn’t keep it from hurting.

After a few days of moping around his home, he figured that maybe he won’t get over Oikawa. And maybe that would just have to do, for now.

 

☀

 

_It's been three whole years of me thinking about you every day_

_Sometimes for hours, sometimes in passing_

_Saw you from the bottom of the staircase_

_Stood out for hours as you complained_

_About how you haven't seen your friends yet_

_That you're too drunk to stand and_

_You not knowing if you can love him forever_


	2. Iwaizumi

Iwaizumi Hajime met Oikawa Tooru when they were both still sucking thumbs and sleeping in cribs.

“Aren’t they cute?” Tooru’s mom would coo, a glass of red wine in one hand as she watched over the two toddlers, “They’ll grow up into handsome friends.”

“They already get along so well.” Iwaizumi’s mother laughed softly and set down her own glass, leaning back in her chair to regard Mrs. Oikawa, “He and his older sister are menaces. It’s nice to take a break once and awhile. Thank you, Ami.”

Tooru grabbed Hajime’s toy, inspected it, and put it in his mouth for a more in-depth analysis. Hajime frowned. That was his toy.

“Anytime! Hajime’s welcome to come visit us if you need some time to yourself! Dealing with Yoshiko’s condition on your own must be…”

Tooru took the toy out of his mouth, a string of spit trailing from the plastic. He set it on the floor. They both looked at the toy. After a moment, Tooru got bored and started crawling around on the scratchy carpet. Hajime watched.

“It’s nothing much, really. I can handle it. I appreciate it, though.” Ms. Iwaizumi sighed.

Mrs. Oikawa smiled into a sip of her wine.

 

It only took four years for Hajime’s mother to take her friend up on the offer. Hajime didn’t know what was going on; He was 5 years old and his mother’s incessant pacing outside his bedroom didn’t bother him anymore. He _was_ a little upset, however, about having to go over to Tooru’s house. Tooru was annoying and cried a lot. He also took Hajime’s toys.

Tooru giggled and clapped when he saw Hajime. Mrs. Oikawa ushered them off to the backyard, Tooru gripping Hajime’s sticky fingers between his own.

He gave Hajime an abridged tour of his backyard, pointing out the various trees and crannies that he usually liked to play pretend in.

“Haji! Haji! I’ll be the king and you’ll be my knight!” Hajime nodded once. He was serious about this job. The knight was the best role, and he loved battling with the mysterious creatures Tooru made up in his head.

They ran around Tooru’s kingdom for a while, slaying carnivorous beasts and saving fair maidens with toothy grins and victorious squeals. And when all the heroic deeds had been done, the two of them collapsed like dropped dolls in the grass, watching the sky with wonder.

Watching a buzzing airplane leave its mark in the sky.

Wind rustling the branches and leaves.

The heavy breaths of two worn out kids.

Tooru shuffled until he’d turned towards Hajime and began tracing the outline of his profile with his eyes. Hajime thought briefly about whether or not Tooru was allowed to see the Star Wars movies yet. His mom told Hajime that he was too young for it. This annoyed him.

“Haji, why haven’t come over that often?”

Hajime blinked.

“Sorry. My mommy said that Yoshiko’s at the hos-pit-al.” Hajime made sure to enunciate each syllable, like his mommy taught him. 2 years his senior, Hajime’s sister meant the world to him, probably because, besides Tooru, she was his only friend.

“Oh,” Tooru mumbled, curling in on himself slightly like a Roly Poly. “I hope you can come back soon.”

Hajime gave him a curt nod. He did too, even if Tooru was a little whiney.

It was then that Mrs. Oikawa opened the screen door and called out for the two boys to come inside for lunch. Oikawa jumped to his feet and sprinted as fast as his little legs would take him inside, his mother’s voice carrying behind him, a reminder to wash his hands. Hajime got up slowly and followed suit.

Mrs. Oikawa stopped him before he could meet Oikawa at the sink. She gave him a small smile, leaned down, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Your mother loves you very much.”

Hajime grinned. He loves his mommy too!

Mrs. Oikawa straightened up and let him run off to the kitchen sink, where Oikawa was already carefully slapping soap onto his hands.

Behind the door, Ms. Iwaizumi watched the three of them with tired eyes and a reluctant twist of her lips. He’ll be fine, she reassured herself. This is for the best.

The sink turned off. Hajime looked around the kitchen with a concerned frown but was interrupted by Oikawa’s hands grabbing his arm and dragging him towards the perfectly cut sandwiches and milk waiting for them at the counter.

Ms. Iwaizumi tore herself away from the door frame and entered the kitchen. Her heart fell at the way Hajime’s face lit up when he saw her. She ruffled his hair and kissed his cheek, asking him quietly what kind of sandwich Mrs. Oikawa made for them. Hajime babbled excitedly about the delicious turkey and cheese. It was almost incredible how much he relaxed with his mother in the room.

Hajime hadn’t inherited much from his father besides his face shape and shy personality. Instead, he had gotten his mom’s thick black hair, hazel eyes, and upturned nose. Hajime thought the world of his mom.

Or, at least he did until the age of five when his mom sat next to him on Hajime’s bed well past his bedtime. She carefully told him that he would be staying with the Oikawa’s for a few weeks, so she could spend a lot of time with his sister in the hospital. She promised him that when Yoshiko recovered, they would move into a bigger house, get a dog maybe. She promised him that she would be the best mom ever, and under her breath, she promised herself that she would be better off than she ever was with Hajime’s father.

Hajime didn’t take it well. He screamed and cried and tired himself out to the point of exhaustion, and when his mom kissed him goodnight and told him that she loved him, he didn’t reply. Lights went out. Breaths evened. Time moved forward at the pace it always did, and Hajime briefly wondered if this night was just a bad dream. It felt exactly like a nightmare.

He wondered if the dream was still going on two days later when his mom held him tight and told him that it’ll be okay. That she loves him so much. Mr. Oikawa took his suitcase and lowered it into the trunk of their Toyota. His mother promised to call him soon, and with that, she strapped him into Tooru’s car seat and waved him off.

When they arrived at the Oikawa house, Tooru enthusiastically brought Hajime upstairs to see his bedroom. Indefinitely, their bedroom. Mr. Oikawa leaves his suitcase by the door with promises that they’ll unpack after dinner.

As they all sat around the table, Mrs. Oikawa turned to Hajime with a kind expression.

“Welcome to our home, Hajime. Welcome to our family.”

Hajime thanked her quickly, in consideration to a very hungry Tooru sitting next to him. Then they dug in.

  
  


Three months after Hajime moved in with the Oikawa’s, Mrs. Oikawa sat him down to tell him that his sister had died at the local hospital that morning and to explain what that meant.

Hajime cried for a long time. Tooru held his hand as they sat in their bedroom, Blanket’s staining from Hajime’s snot and tears. But Tooru kept a steady grip. A wordless promise that he would never leave.

 

It took six months before Ms. Iwaizumi came to collect Hajime. It was raining, the type that soaks your clothes before you even have time to curse the weather. She swept the six-year-old Hajime off the ground, holding him close and spinning around in tight circles like if she stopped he would be gone again.

“I missed you,” she mumbled into his hair and placed a kiss where her words were.

But when they got home, everything was both eerily familiar and uncomfortably different. His mother made him mac and cheese for dinner, a usual treat. Light bulbs flickered, having been forced alive for too long. Hajime’s room was too dark and the house too quiet. His mother would go to sleep before he did.

He still loved her, and he always would, but they would never be as close as they were before. Mrs. Oikawa saw this. Tooru even noticed, in his own way. And as Hajime’s years pushed forwards and Ms. Iwaizumi’s passed her by, the Oikawa’s had Hajime over for dinner almost every night. Tooru and Hajime grew up together, went to school together, fought through puberty together.

Tooru convinced Hajime to join the volleyball club, insisting that “Iwa-chan, how are you supposed to grow and find yourself a great woman if you have the body type of a twig?” Tooru stopped using Hajime’s first name, insisting that they were grown up now. And so, Oikawa met Iwaizumi by a different name, and vice versa. They met the new versions of themselves, the Iwa-builds-up-muscles-too-quickly-izumi and Oi-thinks-too-highly-of-himself-for-a-junior-high-kid-kawa adaptations of each other.

In junior high, Oikawa was too focused on volleyball and Tobio-chan, to care much for where he stood in the society of his school, but when he came to Aoba Johsai, there were louder girls and more developed humans. Oikawa now saw where he stood as the center of too many affections, and he thrived. He became a little obsessed with the spotlight.

“Who do you have a crush on, Iwa-chan.” He would ask at least once a month, kicking his legs back and forth and staring at the ceiling when they were supposed to be studying.

“No one, dumbass.”

“But you say that every time I ask you!”

“Because my answer hasn’t changed.”

Oikawa breathes out a frustrated huff. “What kind of girls are you into?”

This made Iwaizumi pause, as silly as it was. He never thought about that. What type of girl would he actually like?

He sighed and dropped his pencil, turning to face his childhood friend. “I don’t know. Someone confident. Someone who cares about sports, or would at least cheer me on. Someone I don’t have to act like someone I’m not around…” Iwaizumi frowned and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is whether or not you’re gonna pass this test, idiot.”

“Silly, Iwa-chan, you know I can always get high scores without studying. It must have something to do with how flawlessly intelligent I am!”

Iwaizumi smacked his arm.

“You’ve gotten a little violent, haven’t you, Iwa-chan. You shouldn’t play all those gruesome games.”

“Get out.”

“This is my house!”

Iwaizumi yawned and Oikawa watched him with a fond smile.

 

“How’s school, honey?”

His mom asked the same thing every time they sat down for dinner. Iwaizumi always responded in the same way. Volleyball is typical. Oikawa’s doing fine, thank you for asking.

“You know, it may be a little awkward talking about this with me, but you can talk about your social life with me too! How are the rest of your friends?”

“They don’t exist, mom.”

Ms. Iwaizumi’s smile falters, “Not even a girlfriend or anything?”

Fear spikes through Hajime. This question again. Always this question, he’s still young! He doesn’t need to be hearing about relationships, much less from his mother.

“No. No, mom, I’m not dating. This is my first year of high school.”

“Well, I know that!” Ms. Iwaizumi chuckles and pushes her food around her plate, avoiding eye contact with Hajime. “But have you ever even considered girls? I just- I’m- I’m worried, Hajime.”

“Why would you be worried?” As much as his mother tended to get on his nerves,the last thing he wanted to do was worry her. There was already so much pressure on her, and he wasn’t about to give himself up as another course of stress.

“I don’t want you to turn out, well… gay.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Gay?

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Mom, I’m not-” But he really had never thought about it before. He never cared much for girls, despite all of Tooru’s obnoxious ramblings, and then there was, well, Tooru.

There was always Tooru.

“I have to go to bed.” He said suddenly, standing up with a start. He put his plate in the sink, kissed his mother on the cheek, and stumbled upstairs. Ms. Iwaizumi didn’t say a word, just kept her eyes on her fork.

 

The thought didn’t leave him.

 

A singular speculation kept his daydreaming in class and staying up late at night turning over in his head. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, right? He wasn’t bad, just unlucky.

Just unlucky.

Yeah, he’d think, allowing himself a smile and change of position. A lot of people were unlucky, and that didn’t make them any better or worse than they would be if they weren’t in that unlucky position. He just pulled the short end of the stick when it came to this. That’s fine.

So what if he was in love with his best friend. It didn’t matter really. It’d go away eventually. And then he’d figure it out from there. It was all okay.

He hadn’t talked about that conversation with his mother since the night it happened, and it seemed that both parties were fine with this arrangement.

So when it slipped out in a discussion about the future with Oikawa the night after a particularly brutal study session, he had already come to terms with the fact that Oikawa would never love him back.

 

That doesn’t mean it hurt any less when he ran out of Iwaizumi’s house, hell-bent on going the opposite direction of home. Hajime watched him go, biting his lip to keep him from crying.

His lips were chapped by the end of the week.

But then Oikawa smiled at him. Invited him to sit next to him at lunch, pretended like nothing happened.

Iwaizumi would ask Oikawa at some point why he didn’t completely push him out of his life.

“The short answer, Iwa-chan, is that I don’t care if you love me. I’d surprised if you didn’t, to be perfectly honest!”

Iwaizumi punched him in one arm and pulled him close with the other, not bothering to wonder whether or not Oikawa might be uncomfortable with it. He hugged him tight, the boy who took him in when he was five, the kid who didn’t care if he was gay, the man who he loved. And when Oikawa was at his worst, he’d do the same, whispering gentle affirmations and ‘I love you’s into his ear. Because Oikawa swore he would never leave his side, so like hell Iwaizumi will ever neglect to share the same courtesy.

 

Then, three years later without warning, Oikawa tells him that he’s going to a university in America.

 

All remaining promises crumble away. Iwaizumi is left in the rubble, clutching his chest. His body is the only thing he knows truly anymore.

 

And fuck, it hurts.

 

☀

 

_Used to call you crook, called you a bandit_

_There ain't no other good damn reason why_

_my heart, it would go missing_

_For so many months so I was wishing that you_

_That you would stop pretending_

_Remember all those countless nights_

_When I told you I loved you_

_And to never forget it_

_Oh just forget it_

 

 


	3. Kuroo

Kuroo Tetsurou met Oikawa Tooru in the most cliche way possible.

Which, hypothetically, might have been the opposite of a problem.

“I eat up that romantic shit. Rose petals? Candle light dinners? Random declarations of love? Fuck me up, man. Give me all of it.” He told a dozing Sawamura Daichi first thing in the morning, after keeping the other boy up all night enthusing on how amazing _it_ was.

 _It_ referring to Kuroo’s golden moment. Just thinking back on it made Kuroo grin. The touch of hands as they both reached for a textbook at the same time… The shy smiles and rushed apologies before the both had to run to class…

“Please, just-” Sawamura groaned into a yawn, “Bother someone else with your delusional ramblings? I feel like I’m about to throw up from exhaustion.”

Kuroo chuckled, “Okay, okay, old man. But when that guy and I are the power couple of the school, you’ll be eating your words.”

Sawamura chose not to comment on that, deciding instead to grumble out a “goodnight” and dropped his head onto the desk.

Now, Kuroo might’ve been delusional. Lord knows that wasn’t the first time that word had been thrown at him in the middle of one of his fantasies, but that by no means meant he wasn’t a determined man. He wasn’t about to sit around daydreaming about a cute boy. He was going to find him and woo him. Nothing could get in his way.

 

This ended up being a lot easier than he anticipated.

 

Kuroo Tetsurou met Oikawa Tooru for the second (third?) time during his fifth day of volleyball practice his second year.

“We’ve been practicing with him for a whole year, Kuroo,” Suga sighed as the two friends cleaned up after practice, watching Oikawa practice jump serves over a net that probably wouldn’t be taken down for a while. “And you never even noticed him?”

“Did you?”

Suga blushed and looked anywhere but Kuroo, “Stop trying to change the subject.”

Kuroo grabbed a stray ball, tossing it into it’s container. “To be perfectly honest, Sugar, I wasn’t paying attention to the other first years, besides your pretty face of course. I was focusing most of my efforts into impressing the upperclassmen, you know? That’s how you get a starting position. And I didn’t want to be on the bench all year. It worked out for me pretty well, too.”

Suga shot him a glare.

“Not that bench-warming is bad, of course,” Kuroo amended.

Seemingly satisfied, Suga tossed the last volleyball at Kuroo, “I have to go shower, you can finish this up, right?”

“Of course. Anything for you, babycakes.”

Sugawara grew bright red, stomping off in a huff . “Please stop flirting with me, it makes me uncomfortable.”

“You’re just flustered! Don’t need to get embarrassed about it, I’m flattered!”

Sugawara didn’t dignify him with a response, leaving Kuroo alone in the gym with a volleyball and nothing to do but watch Oikawa toss the ball into the air, jump perfectly, and spike it into the other side of the court with a frightening amount of force for a second year. His skills were something to be admired. Kuroo sighed.

 

Something to be admired.

Why couldn’t Kuroo ever be something to be admired?

 

He shook his head, stopping the all too familiar thought process before it could manifest into something worse. He put the ball away and decided against showering, too tired to think about anything but the walk home. Throwing on his jacket, he raised a hand in a half-assed effort of a goodbye and walked out of the gym, leaving Suga and Oikawa and Something To Be Admired behind. He could worry about them tomorrow.

 

To everybody’s surprise, it was Oikawa who approached him first.

“You’re Kuroo Tetsurou, correct?”

Kuroo’s heart jumped as he turned around slowly to see the grinning subject of his affections, school uniform fitting his body just right and a hand gripping his schoolbag.

Kuroo smirked.

“Mmm, and you are?”

“Oikawa Tooru, we’re on the same volleyball team! And it seems we have astronomy together.”

Kuroo threw his schoolbag next to his desk and sat down, motioning towards the seat next to him while maintaining eye contact with Oikawa. “It would seem so. Take a seat. I’m sure we’ll have a blast getting to know each other.” He drawled, looking up at the other boy under hooded eyelids.

Oikawa took the seat offered to him and threw Kuroo another award-winning smile, before turning to get his books out of his bag. “We’ve met before, haven’t we, Tetsu-chan? I bumped into you in the hallway and made you drop your belongings if I remember correctly. I’m so sorry about that! I was running late you see, and couldn’t really stick around for long. But to be honest, maybe that little accident wasn’t so bad after all.”

“Oho?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow.

“Well, you see, silly, if I didn’t bump into in the hallway, I would have never gotten a chance to interact with another hot volleyball player such as myself,” Their teacher walked into the classroom, but before she could interrupt their conversation, Oikawa added, “And I would have never gotten the courage to talk to you, Tetsu-chan.”

And thus, he left Kuroo to marinate in those words for the rest of class, slowly crumbling apart in thoughts of “He’s adorable, too” and “Oh, man. I’m fucked,” falling for Oikawa’s smooth words and hinted vulnerability.

The two were intrigued by each other, and it wasn’t long until they agreed to a date.

And another.

And another.

And another.

Sawamura Daichi was extremely disappointed to find that, uncharacteristically true to his word, Kuroo Tetsurou and Oikawa Tooru evolved into as close to a power couple as they could get.

They were, in some respects, almost the same person. Handsome, smart, and downright obnoxious. What started as a cliche maintained itself in cliches. The PDA couple. Obsessed with one another. Every moment that they spent together was either adorable or incredibly inappropriate, and they lived to push the boundaries of what they could and could not get away with at school.

If you asked their peers what they thought of Kuroo and Oikawa, some would say they loved them.

Some would say they envied them.

Some would like to report that they didn’t get caught up in the drama, whatever that means.

And some, a handful of students, would admit that it hurt, but would not explain why.

But, of course, how could they?

Bokuto watched from the door of the gym as Oikawa sat in Kuroo’s lap, laughing at something stupid his boyfriend said.

How could they?

Iwaizumi walked home with Oikawa, trying to ignore his best friend as he ranted on and on about how great Kuroo Tetsurou was.

How could they?

Sugawara’s cheesy grin faltered when he saw Oikawa grab onto Kuroo and kiss him passionately in a rush of adrenaline, doused in the glory of beating Shiratorizawa at Nationals.

How could they?

 

And Kuroo felt genuinely happy for the first time in a while.

 

Every inch of contact with Oikawa left him feeling like something to be admired.

He fell in love with that sensation.

He fell in love with Oikawa like feather falls in love with the wind as it lifts the feather up, up, up…

Oikawa tells Kuroo that he loves him on a cold morning in March.

Up, up, up…

“I want to have sex.” Oikawa smiles softly, “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Kuroo chuckles, “Don’t have to ask me twice.”

Up, up, up...

“We’re going to continue this over the summer, right?”

Oikawa stops kissing his neck.

Kuroo counts to three before Oikawa responds.

“Of course, Tetsu-chan.”

Up, up, up…

It’s a quiet afternoon in July when Oikawa texts Kuroo.

It’s way too hot out. The sun stands blindingly oppressive over the world, like a cloying smile and too much body heat.

 

 **(16:04) Tooru- Tetsu-chan! Do you have time to talk? (੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭✧**  

**(16:04) Me- Of course. What’s up?**

**(16:07) Tooru- I’ve got some bad news…**

**(16:08) Me- ?**

**(16:12) Tooru- You see, this past year has been amazing. Unbelievable. You’re the best boyfriend ever!!! Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s gonna work out. (◞‸◟；)  Next year I’ll have way too much going on, between volleyball and school and college! I’m stressed already! And I don’t think I’ll have time to be a very good boyfriend. (╯•﹏•╰) That’s why I think it’s best for the best to call it off now! No hard feelings, I just want you to be happy, Tetsu-chan.**

**(16:15) Tooru- Tetsu-chan?**

**(16:20) Tooru- Tetsurou?**

**(16:32) Tooru- I understand if you’re upset, but isn’t it better to talk about it? I don’t want you to be sad.**

**(22:45) Tooru- I’m sorry**

**_Message Not Delivered_ **

 

But eventually, the wind will stop blowing, and the feather will fall.

 

☀

 

_Bullshit you fucking miss me_

_There I said it I guess I'll talk to you in a few months_

_Sitting drunk on the sidewalk_

_I guess I'll get up_

_I guess I'll go for a walk_

_Press my shoes against the pavement_

_I swear this has got to be the hundredth_

_Time I've thought of you tonight_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took forever to get this one out, but I'm pretty proud of it. Mostly unedited again, so sorry if there's a shit ton of mistakes. Thanks for reading though, and I hope you enjoyed!


	4. Sugawara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long to get done!!! I hope you guys enjoy it, and I hope the characterization isn't too horrible. Also!! I switched the last two chapters so it would make sense to the plot, so I apologize for any confusion. In any case, here is the second to last chapter!! Enjoy!!

Sugawara Koushi met Oikawa Tooru by an impulse decision.

His story was significantly shorter than the others– he knew this. He’d had his fair share of conversations with Bokuto, Kuroo, and Iwaizumi, presumably because of how quick he was to offer help. Every time he heard about the rises and falls of their relationships with Oikawa, it reminded him of just how trivial his own story was. He was never in a relationship, like Kuroo, or friends for life, like Iwaizumi, or exploited for months, like Bokuto. The extent of his interactions with Oikawa were limited to less than ten minutes. Maybe even five- he wasn’t exactly watching the clock. 

Suga was shy. A cute kind of shy, according to Kuroo, but shy nonetheless. He never really knew how to act when people flirted with him, usually melting down into a sputtering pool of embarrassment at the sight of a suggestive smile. This made friendship with Kuroo rather difficult and getting a date with any of the boys and girls of his humble, local high school a nearly impossible task. He was attractive, of course. And he’d been described on more than one occasion by close friends as a force to be reckoned with. It’s a shame, really, that most of said close friends weren’t even remotely dating material. 

But he was getting off track.

His thoughts tended to do that, this late at night, watching the light of the fire alarm above his head blink every second. The light reflected off of the cymbals of his drum kit and the big, scratched up mirror above his desk. His eyes had adjusted to the dark of his bedroom hours prior to this train of thought. His bed wasn’t comfortable anymore. 

He sat up and slowly stripped the sheets off of him, crawling to the edge of his bed. When he took a step off of it, the old wooden planks creaked beneath his feet and he winced slightly. Asleep or not, his mom’s ears were as keen and quick as lightning. He didn’t want to suffer through another midnight lecture about getting a full night’s sleep. 

And he usually did get his full nine hours, he thought with a frown as he pushed himself off his bed. The past two days had just been eventful, what with Kuroo and Oikawa’s break up and all. It hadn’t crossed his head that by sitting and playing therapist with all of his teammates whenever something troubled them, he’d inevitably become emotionally involved in their problems as well.

Especially considering that this particular case included Oikawa. 

Yes, yes. He doesn’t want to think about this again. 

The hallway leading to the kitchen had always been a source of his nightmares when he was a kid. It was long and narrow, rooms branching off its walls in both directions. When they built this house, god knows how long ago, it seemed to have never crossed their minds to include a simple light, some sort of comforting glow, and in retrospect he supposes it’s not necessarily needed. But when he little, and the door was open, he’d imagine a big monster creeping along the floor, its talons scraping the wallpaper. He’d dream of it coming closer to his cowering form, leaning in its gnarled head so close that he could smell sewage off its breath. And then he’d wake up, run to his mother’s bedroom next door, and hide in her arms until morning. 

On this day, as he looked down the length of the hall, the possibility of a monster coming to eat him seemed vaguely appealing. That way, at least, he wouldn’t have to deal with Kuroo’s recent emotional distance. It’s a melodramatic and insensitive thought, he knew, but it was two in the morning and he didn’t care anymore. He was just tired. And craving something savory. 

He tiptoed past his mom and brother’s rooms, flicking on the light switch once he got past the hallway, hoping that the light didn’t wake anyone up. The house seemed louder when no one was talking over its noise, heaters and dishwashers flooding the living space with sound. His bare feet padded across the room and he opened the fridge. He let his eyes drag over its contents. Nothing spectacular, but it’ll do. A spoon. A seat. A snack. 

The thing he thinks bothered him the most about Oikawa was his lack of consideration for the lives he’s touched. It’s like he saw high school as this last ditch effort to claim childish ignorance before his real life kicked into motion. So when he had flings with people or dated them just because they were attractive and convenient, it was easy because they were confined to the small span of three years and one building. Maybe that’s why Iwaizumi scared him off. Maybe that’s how he found it so easy to just whisk Suga away into a stupid storage closet and kiss him. Because that’s the cliche way you’re supposed to seduce people in high school, right? Way to swoop in, steal someone’s heart who is just trying to go about their day, __ and leave. Never talk to him again. Not even acknowledge it when he  _ smiles at you in the hallway- _

The point is that Oikawa is a childish, immature, arrogant, blind person. And it pissed him off. 

Yeah, he’d smile and exchange pleasantries with the king if he ever bothered to stoop to poor Suga-chan’s level. Yeah, he didn’t know how to stand up to people and preferred being quiet and polite. But! That didn’t mean he won’t  _ think _ awful things! That didn’t mean he’ll forgive him for being such an ass.

When Suga put down his fork just a little too violently, it hit him that it’s late (early?) and he’s exhausted and delirious.   

He cleaned up and sneaked back to his bedroom, sliding underneath his covers. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about Oikawa. Then again, he’d never had that much control over where his mind takes him.

  
  


Bokuto went to sleep early last night.

When he woke up before his alarm clock the next morning, he was so excited by the prospect of not being exhausted for the first time in months that he knocked over a glass previously sitting precariously at the edge of his bedside table. It didn’t shatter, thank god, but it did scare him out of his destructive excitement. The close-call, however, failed to spoil his good mood. 

He picked his feet though the sea of clothes, dishes, textbooks, and guitar tabs surrounding his bed, trying to find his uniform and hoping it wasn’t too dirty. He hadn’t had time to do laundry recently, what with volleyball and taking care of his sister, often both at the same time. Sure, his sister doesn’t necessarily like volleyball, but she will! There aren’t that many other interests Bokuto could share with her. 

He threw his socks and pants on, throwing his arms through the sleeves of his shirt and struggling to button it up on his way to the bathroom. He wasted no time squeezing toothpaste messily onto a toothbrush and brushing his teeth hurriedly,  gurgling it back before spitting the remnants into the sink. Bokuto grabbed his blazer and his bag and skipped down the stairs, immediately noticing his sister sitting at the table, eagerly stuffing spoonfuls of cereal in her mouth. The kitchen’s yellow walls and white counters always made Bokuto happy, but this morning the colors work their magic especially well. 

“You buttoned up your shirt wrong,” His sister commented when she put her spoon down. She grabbed the edges of the bowl and brought it to her mouth, drinking the leftover milk. She didn’t actually like cereal, eating it purely for the sweetness it left behind. Bokuto always used to tease her about it when she wasn’t old enough to snap back. He misses those days. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He ran over to press a slobbery kiss to the top of her head and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. Bokuto let go of her and strode over to the counter, reaching up to open one of the highest cabinets and pull out the sugary cereal he prefers.

“I still don’t think it’s fair that you get to have the good cereal,” His sister proclaimed, peeking over the top of her chair as he quickly mixed milk and sugar, “It’s just because you’re tall and mom thinks you’re too sweet to say no to. It’s not nice.”

Bokuto laughed and slid into the chair beside her. “You’ll understand when you’re older, right?”

She pouted at her empty bowl. 

“How’d you sleep?!” Bokuto asked instead, figuring it was best to distract her before she made an excuse to leave again. 

“Bad. Hiro kept me up all night. He was barking at the neighbor’s dog again.”

“Well, that’s a bummer.”

Bokuto and his sister looked at each other for a few seconds, Bokuto’s grin falling by the second. 

The spoon in Bokuto’s cereal slipped into its bowl.

Bokuto’s sister sighed and dropped her head so her chin could rest on the edge of the table. “How did you sleep?” Her tone was deadpan and defeated.

“I slept great! I went to sleep at like, nine and woke up before my alarm. It was weird, you know? Because I’m usually pretty freaking tired. But nope! All sunshine today!” 

“Yeah, why are you so happy, anyway? You’re usually a lot more…”

Exhausted. Lazy. Reluctant. 

“I don’t know! I guess I just- I just-”

Bokuto’s smile really did fall this time.

“I guess…”

Last night, Bokuto got a text from Oikawa. This didn’t surprise him at the time; Oikawa always liked to try to stay in touch with him. But the time stamp on these texts usually tended to fall during the ungodly hours of the morning. This was a short message, three words, no emoticons, no anything. 

_ i fucked up _

Bokuto really shouldn’t assume things, and he really shouldn’t be so happy about this assumption, but regardless, he knew instantly that the only reason why Oikawa Tooru would admit that he fucked up in any way, shape, or form, is if he hurt Kuroo. And if he hurt Kuroo, he held no doubt that that couple of kings would descend from their thrones in chaos. 

He really shouldn’t be so happy about the assumption of a messy break-up.

His sister was still staring at him, but her annoyed frown had twisted into something crafted with concern. He laughed humorlessly, finished his cereal, and stood up. He wrapped his blazer around him.

Why did he have to be such an asshole all the time? 

Bokuto dragged his feet towards the door and slid on his shoes slowly. As he walked out the door, he could hear his sister call to him, “Don’t forget your lunch!”

He pretended not to hear her.

  
  


Kuroo was starting to give himself a migraine.

The entire morning was spent grinding his teeth together at the sight of Oikawa skipping and laughing across the halls of his high school. It’s almost as if he figured that not only did he want to break Kuroo’s damn heart over text, but he wanted to rub as much salt into the wound as possible.

He started to regret not faking sick again. Yeah, he managed to skip out on one day already this week, but maybe if he had spread the lie just thin enough, it’d be enough to convince his mom that he was still recovering from his cold. 

But no, there is Oikawa Fucking Tooru, smiling cockily at Iwaizumi from just a few meters away. There he sits, giggling as he steals some of Hanamaki’s food. There he is, laughing  _ right in front of Kuroo’s fucking face _ -

“Kuroo!” His heart jumped when Sugawara Koushi put a hand on his shoulder, smiling carefully. “Class is going to start any second. You know how Hayashi-sensei feels about late students. He’ll be more than glad to chew you out again.

Kuroo exhaled, cast one more glare toward Oikawa again, before relenting to Suga’s pointed grin. He can never say no to an angel, he supposed. He trailed just behind that head of silver hair and wished that he could understand why he saw some hints of anger in Suga’s eyes. 

“Sugar, how do you feel about getting some tea after school?”

Suga stopped in his tracks, kicking up dirt with the abruptness of his movements. 

“Why?” His quiet voice came, and Kuroo if Kuroo thought he was confused before, he definitely was now. Usually, Suga would punch him or something, but now everything he did was laced with abnormality. Kuroo was… interested? That didn’t sound right.

“I don’t know. Figured I’d get my mind off things, you know?”  _ You seem like you could use some tea,  _ is what he didn’t say.

Suga turned around to flash him a far more convincing smile from before as if he recognized what Kuroo was too polite to say. “That sounds great, Kuroo.”

This stroke of happiness lasted Kuroo 47 minutes before he started to think about Oikawa again, already worn down by the drawl of his math teacher’s voice. He stole a glance around the room, meeting Suga’s eye with a smile, and trying to ignore Iwaizumi a desk over. It’s not like he held anything against the man (he seemed genuinely nice and intelligent, and honestly too good for Oikawa), but the close-knit group of friends he’d been tied into during his relationship with Oikawa had become a part of his life by now. It was just another seam torn, and the wound was still fresh. 

After class, Kuroo beelined towards Suga before anybody else had time to ask him questions. Suga greeted him with his usual grin and Kuroo walked him to his next class. Suga was, after all, the closest friend he had at this point. He was gonna make damn sure that he treated him well. 

“I’ll see you at lunch, Sugar. Don’t stress yourself out.”

“Take care of yourself first, asshole. I’ll see you at lunch.”

And so, they parted ways. It was funny how small conversations like these could give his mood such a boost, considering the pits of negativity he’d been subject to these past two days. He knew that it must be draining on Suga, leaning on him so heavily like this, but honestly, what does he have left?

He needed someone to help him feel better.

And even if he wasn’t something to be desired. Even if he was forcing tight friendships between him and the only one who acted like he cared anymore, he was gonna have to cling to that. Because when shit gets tough, you’re allowed to be a little selfish. That’s what Kuroo told himself, that is. 

His next class was Astronomy. Kuroo took a deep sigh and went on his way.

  
  


Iwaizumi Hajime was tired. 

He was able to catch about two hours of sleep last night, with absolutely no help from Shitty-kawa and his emotional ramblings. He didn’t mind that much, really. Of course, Oikawa had a rough night. Kuroo didn’t come to school yesterday, and the reasoning for such most likely landed entirely on Oikawa’s shoulders. He knew full well that he fucked up but he… he just didn’t understand how. So, yeah. He’d stay up just to comfort his stupid best friend that he’s stupidly in love with, but that never meant he couldn’t complain about it afterward.

Not only was Iwaizumi Hajime tired, but he was also conflicted.

It was hard to not develop a bias when it came to Oikawa Tooru, and Iwaizumi really felt bad for the guy. It’s not like he was hurting people on purpose or some shit like that, he was just an arrogant guy with an ugly personality and little to no empathy. You know. Minor stuff. Then again, there exists the fact that he still hurt people. That kid Bokuto, Kuroo, and god knows who else.

At least he never hurt me, Iwaizumi tells himself. He had the opportunity to really fuck me up, but he chose not to.  He has the capacity to be a lot worse.

It would be nice if Oikawa liked him, though. Just a little bit.

So. Iwaizumi Hajime was tired, conflicted, and sad.

What a great day.

Oikawa draped himself across his back like he owned it and in actuality, he just might. Iwaizumi was fine only ever being seen as Oikawa’s best friend. At least it gave him an identity, or whatever. As that thought crossed his head, he realized just how depressing he sounded, and promptly shook Oikawa off.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa protested, but Iwaizumi just crossed his arms with a scowl. 

“Kuroo is literally right over there. You could have the fucking decency to not show off right in front of him.” 

Oikawa pouted, but sat down like a civilized fucking human being regardless. Iwaizumi’s chest puffed with pride just a little. It was nice forcing Oikawa to do as he asked. 

“Iwa-chan, it’s not my fault he’s so hung up on this.”

“Yeah? You broke the poor kid’s heart, you dickhead. At least act like you’re upset.”

“I am upset, Iwa-chan.” Well, no shit. Iwaizumi knew that Oikawa hates expressing his emotions face to face. He feels vulnerable, he feels uncomfortable, yeah yeah yeah. 

“I know,” Iwaizumi reached a hand over to ruffle Oikawa’s hair, and to his surprise, Oikawa leaned his head into Iwaizumi’s touch. There was a small smile tugging at the corners of Oikawa’s lips and even if it wasn’t his usual grin, it was a lot more raw and genuine than that. Iwaizumi smirked and retracted his hand, eliciting a small groan of disapproval. 

“I gotta go to class, and I know for a fact that you do too.”

Oikawa sunk back into his blazer. “I don’t want to.”

“Well, tough shit.”

Iwaizumi stood and stretched his arms above his head, taking a few steps towards the building before looking back with a scowl. “Are you coming or not?”

“Yes, yes, Iwa-chan. You don’t have to be so impatient all the time. It’s just so obnoxious~”

Iwaizumi lunged for him and Oikawa jumped up and sprinted towards the school, laughing. Iwaizumi chased right after him, not willing to be out done.

And if he was laughing too, he’ll never admit it. He’s sure Oikawa knows, anyway.

  
  


A year or so passes by.

  
  


Suga thanks God that Oikawa hasn’t dated anyone else on the team, but also wishes that he’d at least talk to any of them.

  
  


Bokuto gets over Oikawa, or at least he gets over him enough to feel indifference.

  
  


Kuroo still feels anger. A lot of it. He pushes it into poetry. He even wins a Scholastic Award or two for his pieces.

 

Iwaizumi still loves Oikawa. He supposes he will for as long as they stay close.

  
  


Of course, all of this is subject to change. And it does, in one night. Too much time, too much anger, and too much alcohol. Everything changes on the night of their graduation. 

 

☀

 

_ You weren't the only one _

_ who thought of us that way _

_ I spend most nights awake _

_ Wide awake _

 

_ I never thought that I _

_ Oh I would see the day _

_ Where I'd just let you go _

_ Let you walk away _

_ Where I let you walk away _

 


	5. Ensemble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suga is thirsty for everyone and it's ruining his life.   
> Also, yelling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally over!!! I can't believe I actually finished this. Like wrote out a plan, stuck to it, and coughed up a decent story. Right now it's early morning and I have school tomorrow, so it's far from edited, but I figured that if I had it done I might as well send it out into the great wide web for many to consume and critique, so here goes nothing!!! I really hope you guys enjoyed this story, and I'm sorry for hurting these poor babes.  
> HOWEVER, I'm probably going to be releasing an extra chapter full of just a bunch of headcanons I have for this AU and poly boys being cute and gay. A lot of it will be me going through the rest of the songs on the album in which this AU is based on and connecting each song to a specific person or memory, so that's always fun. If you like Modern Baseball, maybe you should stick around for that. Idk. I don't know you.  
> But as always, I am so thankful for everyone who reads, and I hope this concludes the story well!!! Have fun

“A graduation party?”

Kuroo laughed and swung an arm around Suga’s shoulder, which was promptly shrugged off.

“Don’t act like you aren’t interested. It’ll be the ride of your life. Picture it! Alcohol. Pretty girls, pretty guys. A final farewell to all those douchebags we’ve had to deal with throughout the years. Music. Dancing. Alcohol-”

“I’m starting to worry that you’re turning into an alcoholic, Kuroo.”

Kuroo laughed, “Yeah, yeah, who cares? Come on, sugar, it’ll be fun.”

Suga glared at the ground, eyebrows furrowed in what would appear to be complete concentration. And really, he was trying his best to think of anything. Currently, his mind was at a complete blank. He didn’t want to go to the party, of course, but it wasn’t exactly like he had a choice in the matter. If he decided that he didn’t want to go, Kuroo would drag him out the door in his sweatpants. But if he did-

“Just think about it, ‘kay? It’s not good for your health to lock yourself up in your room all summer. You know, I read somewhere that staying on your computer all day-”

“What are you, my mother? Are you gonna give me a full blown lecture this time, or do I just have to lend you 20 minutes of my time?”

This earned Suga a jabbed elbow into his gut, which, in all fairness, he probably deserved. Kuroo never failed to bring out the meanest in him.

Kuroo rubbed the back of his neck with a slight frown. “Just do this for me, okay?”

A conversation such as this one isn’t exactly what Suga wanted to hear after a long day of finals.  The weather was a little cool for his tastes, but then again he’s always preferred the weather of late June to anything vaguely resembling Winter. He was glad for the Spring. Things were starting to warm up a bit.

There was also the fact that he was graduating in just a week. He was planning on spending the day afterward reading a nice book in his room, practicing, or maybe even going on a walk. He can’t fit in going to a wild, cliche party anywhere in these extremely tight plans. It’s tragic, really. And he was willing to pretend like he hadn’t gotten the memo, out of consideration for the people running this thing. Namely, Kuroo, and his too-big house. Unfortunately, his friend wasn’t planning on letting him off that easily.

He can wave goodbye to his relaxing Sunday afternoon.

“Cheer up, buttercup. Whatever you’re imagining now in that pretty little head of yours is at least ten times worse than it’s actually gonna be. It’ll be fun.”

Suga rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you mentioned that.”

It is times like these that the subtle tightness of his shoes starts hurting his feet. Has the walk home always been this long?

“Again. Just think about it. That’s all I’m gonna ask you to do. And hey, Bokuto will be there, and that’s always a treat.”

 

~

 

“I AM A FREE MAN.”

Konoha sighed for the fifth time in the past 20 minutes. “Yeah, I get it. We all are. You aren’t special.”

“I’VE SUFFERED THROUGH HELL FOR YEARS BUT I AM FINALLY FREE.”

“You sound like you just got out of jail. Calm the fuck down.”

“I’VE MISSED THE SOUNDS OF CHIRPING BIRDS. ARE MY CHILDREN WELL? HOW HAVE THEY GROWN, SINCE I’VE BEEN GONE?”

“Can someone else watch over Bokuto so he doesn’t hurt himself? I’ve got to take my lunch break.”

Sarukui placed a comforting hand on Konoha’s arm and tilted his head to the right, motioning for him to just go already. He then took a seat in Konoha’s absence. Most of the friend group decided to hang around the courtyard after graduation, figuring that they most likely wouldn’t be seeing each other again after Kuroo’s party. They might as well take advantage of the time they have left with each other. It was a little breezy, but not cold enough to be much of a bother. Kuroo and Yaku had left to grab them snacks just a few minutes ago, but it had been too long already. Trying to keep Bokuto occupied while his fellow idiot was absent was probably the most arduous task they’ve had to take part in all day.  

“How’s it going, Bo?”

“ABSOLUTELY MARVELOUS!”

“Are you excited for the party tomorrow?”

“IT WILL BE FUCKING LIT!”

Bokuto stood upon one of the stone benches with two proud fists at his hips. He laughed as he looked upon his past prison. Or rather, his old high school. Konoha had corrected him several times today. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar mess of black hair and whipped around to greet his friend.

In all fairness, he and Kuroo weren’t exactly… close. Bokuto still feels a bit guilty about his negative reaction towards the couple. Sure, he kept them to himself, but it was still a sucky thing to do. Bokuto doesn’t like being a sucky guy. Still, the dude’s fun and he can say with pride that he was nearly arrested before during their one of their shenanigans. Plus, he’s easy on the eyes. Bokuto will give him that.

Speaking of the son of a gun, Kuroo runs up with a grin and arms full of snacks, Yaku trailing along behind him, looking relatively worse for wear. But then again, that always seems to be the case when it comes to Yaku.

“Sorry for the wait, Tetsurou here couldn’t decide on a fucking drink.”

“Hey!” Kuroo chuckled. “You were the one who decided last minute to run and grab another bag of those wasabi peas from hell,  _ mother _ .”

Yaku tilted his nose to the sky, but it just looked like he’s trying to look at Kuroo’s face properly. “Fuck you.”

“Eloquent as ever.”

Konoha whacked Kuroo’s head. “Okay, dumbasses, how about you give us the damn snacks.”

“I guess.” 

Bokuto realized with a start that he had no fucking idea where Suga was. Most likely at home, he supposed. Which is a shame; Suga always liked listening to him when he had a lot to say.

“Hey Bo. Excited for the party tomorrow?” Bokuto blinked out of his daze and let his eyes fall to Kuroo, who was sporting an impressive smirk. 

He was excited. I mean, why wouldn’t he be. Unwinding after finals and having a good time with friends was always exciting. He really didn’t understand why he felt so uneasy. 

 

~

 

No. No, no, no, no. Oikawa had had plenty of bad ideas in the past, but if he was serious about this one, which Iwaizumi really hoped he wasn’t, this would definitely take the cake. 

“Stop being jealous. It’s just a party.” Iwaizumi leaned back against the bedroom wall, hoping that Oikawa would miraculously take his casual nature as a sign that he should absolutely forget that idea. 

“Oh, come on, Iwa-chan! This is our last chance to be stupid teenagers! I know that it’s childish or whatever but it. Will. Be. Fun.” He emphasized the last few words with pokes to Iwaizumi’s head. On a normal day, he might punch Oikawa for being so obnoxious, but the cause of convincing him not to be an idiot is infinitely more important. 

“Don’t you think you caused enough grief in that guy’s life? Don’t go to his stupid party. Leave him alone. Go your separate ways. Stop being a dick. It’s that simple.”

Oikawa let out a huff. “You’re acting like I wasn’t affected by this nonsense too! I was hurt! I cried! I really did love him, Iwa-chan, it’s not like I  _ wanted  _ to hurt him.”

“Okay. Whatever. Doesn’t mean you can act like a drama-king and burst into his fucking party unannounced. You weren’t invited for a reason, fucknut.”

Oikawa chose to keep his mouth closed after that, deciding instead to pick at bed spread. Iwaizumi watched him from his position sitting on the floor. He seemed genuinely disappointed, but he supposes that’s for the best. Iwaizumi grabs his phone and messes around with it for a few. Oikawa needs time to think. Oikawa just needs time to think. 

“You know,” Oikawa pipes up after a few minutes have passed by, “I loved all of them, in a way. All of our team members, all of the people we got to know outside of the club, everyone. They were my friends.”

Iwaizumi grunted.

“And it’s like, I feel like they all hate me now, you know? Just because I broke up with Kuroo, and I don’t really know how I could have done it a better way. Eventually it would have all crumbled apart, regardless of whether I was honest with him or not. It was just a relationship, we weren’t engaged or anything.”

Iwaizumi scowled. Oikawa really didn’t have a clue, did he?

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’d like to see my friends one more time before I go to America. And the party is all I got.”

A few seconds past before Iwaizumi put down his phone gently, looking up at Oikawa. He looked pitiful really, frowning down at his dark blue bedspread like it was the thing upsetting him. He always looked a lot smaller when he frowned. Iwaizumi didn’t like this one bit. Oikawa was loud and pompous and confident. It didn’t fit him to look so submissive.

“The party is in a few hours, huh?” Oikawa nodded. “Let’s wait until then. If you still feel like you want to go, we’ll go.”

He didn’t say anything, but he did smile. Genuinely. Gratefully. And honestly, Iwaizumi couldn’t ask for more.

 

~

 

Kuroo Tetsurou was in deep shit.

Of course, the one day that Bokuto decides to drink without him is the one day that he’s put in charge of the bastard. Yaku was gonna kill him– oh god, if Yaku just kills him he’d be lucky. Yaku was gonna tear off his limbs one by one with his bare teeth and feed them to his fucking cat. You had one goddamn job! He’d say in the process. Everyone knows that Bokuto Koutarou is a hot mess when he’s drunk and all you had to do was keep him safe!

But, of course, Kuroo lost him. Like the idiot he is, he lost Bokuto. And now he’s gonna have to be the one to break it to  _ mother _ that his poor child is probably dead. Not to mention the fact that he still hasn’t seen Suga tonight. It’s always easier to deal with stuff when he’s around. 

“Konoha!” While Konoha himself looks right on the edge of shit faced, he’s the first person Kuroo’s seen since the Incident who he thinks he can trust. “Have you seen Bokuto.”

Konoha smirks, which is unnerving as shit, but Kuroo holds his ground. “Yeah, I saw him knocking back jello shots in the kitchen.”

“Motherfucker.”

“You’re lucky that Yaku’s upstairs with the other sane people. As soon as he sees Bokuto he’s gonna fucking lose it.”

Kuroo frowns. “Yeah. I think I already fucking knew that, asshole.”

Konoha laughs, honest to God _laughs_ and takes another sip of his beer. “Whatever. Good luck, I guess.”

Kuroo weaved his way through the mass of people, beelining towards the kitchen. No sign of Bokuto. No sign of Bokuto. No fucking sign of Bokuto-

“Kuroo!”

He whips his head to the left and catches sight of an extremely uncomfortable Sugawara, trying to carry the entire weight of Bokuto upon his shoulders. Kuroo knows from experience that this is not an easy task, and Suga’s even shorter than he is. Kuroo shoves some shoulders to get to him, but Suga seems overall okay. 

“How long has he been like this?”

Suga sighs, “I don’t know, I found him on the stairwell asking for Morisuke. I figured that Morisuke would probably give him an earful if he found him and I’m sure Bokuto wouldn’t appreciate that.”

“I guess so!” Kuroo laughs,  _ finally laughs _ , “When he’s piss drunk, Bokuto will cry at a puppy video. I don’t want to see this-” He motioned towards the drooling corpse still hanging off of Suga’s back. “-exposed to Yaku’s wrath.”

Suga hums and looks around the room. It’s crowded as shit, Kuroo thinks.  He didn’t really expect this many people to come. 

“Let’s get him somewhere quiet, hm? I’ll take him to one of the bedrooms if you get a jug of water.” Suga says this almost too quietly for Kuroo to hear, but he gets the message, going on his mission with a sharp salute Suga’s way. 

 

~

 

Suga threw Bokuto off of him as soon as he found a bedroom. Bokuto plopped onto the bed like a sack of potatoes, and Suga figured that it wasn’t worth the extra effort to draw the covers over him. Bokuto’s gelled hair was starting to give up hope, the crispy strands falling in front of his face. Suga pushed his Bo’s bangs back and let out a shuddering breath.

“What am I doing here?”

The obvious was, of course, clear as day. He didn’t want to start off tomorrow with an angry voicemail from Kuroo, wailing about how he thought he could count on Suga to be there and, oh, the woes of an unfaithful friend, but Suga could handle that, really. He’s done it before.

But on the list of things he definitely could not handle was seeing Oikawa. No, no he didn’t like it one bit. He might have even started up a little fight if it weren’t for the fact that, at the time, he desperately needed to find Kuroo and Bokuto’s weight was breaking his spine, but none of that matters now. Now it’s just him, Bokuto, and this dimly lit room. The only source of light in the room is lamp on the bedside table. It’s a small room. Suga wondered briefly what it was like to grow up in this room. It’s always weird, after all, seeing the kind of places that people spend more than half their childhoods in. 

The door slammed open, nearly giving Suga a heart attack. Kuroo stood triumphantly in the door frame, a pitcher of water in one hand and a bottle of Ibuprofen in the other. He shook the bottle, insisting that Bo will need it “when he wakes up. He has hangovers straight from hell.” And finally, in one last act of dramatics, he dropped the pitcher onto the bedside table and collapsed next to Suga on the floor.

“Sugar, it’s straight-up chaos down there.”

Suga smiled slightly, “I noticed.” 

“No. No,  _ you  _ haven’t been down there since Lev somehow got alcohol. I have no fucking idea what Mori is doing or how Lev managed to sneak away from  _ mother _ ’s watchful gaze, but he’s already broken a glass. Hey, no! Suga, stop laughing, this is a serious matter!”

Maybe the party wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

 

~

 

Iwaizumi wasn’t a religious man. Actually, on the contrary, he had always been one to faithfully believe in what he could see with his own two eyes. He never really considered the afterlife because there simply existed no evidence that it did, in fact, exist.

But he was sure of it now.

This. This is hell.

And if he had to hear the words “Your arms, Ushi-chan! Mmmm, those biceps just look delicious!” again, he’d probably kill himself. 

Finally figuring that there’s not enough alcohol in the world to keep him from killing Oikawa if he has to deal with him all night, Iwaizumi took his leave, figuring it best to take refuge in… any other part of the house, to be perfectly honest. Anywhere that’s not with Oikawa and his muscular acquaintance. He ran upstairs and opened one door to find Morisuke situated perfectly on top of a extremely tall blonde. Iwaizumi wasn’t even sure if the kid was in their graduating class and, in fact, if he remembered correctly, he was a first year on the volleyball team. That certainly didn’t stop Yaku from straddling him, and by the looks of it- No, Iwaizumi definitely shouldn’t have been there.

The next room was a bathroom and was unfortunately occupied by a crying man with long brown hair. Iwaizumi, frankly, didn’t want to deal with that. He tried to close the door as quietly as possible.

And the next room… Oh. Well, the next room…

He opened the door to find Sugawara Koushi laughing loud, like he didn’t have a care in the world. Anyone who would talk to Sugawara in school knew that he wasn’t exactly carefree, but here he was. Completely comfortable. He was sitting on Kuroo’s lap with Kuroo’s arms wrapped loosely around him, smiling at him like he was a treasure. Iwaizumi first felt guilt, then anger, then acceptance. Kuroo deserved someone who made him happy again. 

As he moved to close the door, find another room, get out of their way, the door squeaked on it’s hinges. He winced, eyes squeezed shut, slowly letting them relax and open to see if the other two were giving him the same kinds of dirty looks he imagined in his head. But, no. They were surprised sure, but Suga even looked a little happy to see him. Kuroo not so much, but Iwaizumi will take what he can get.

“Are you looking for something?” Suga piped up. Iwaizumi had always liked Suga.

“Um, just a place to hide.” He laughed awkwardly and raised a hand to rest at the nape of his neck. “But I guess this room is occupied.”

Sugawara smiled a little wider, but it was starting to look more sly than welcoming, “You could hang with us! We’re just making keeping an eye on Bokuto. Unless you want some privacy?”

Kuroo frowned at his… companion, but otherwise stayed silent.

“I mean if it’s not too much of a bother.” He moved to enter the room.

“Uh-uh!” Sugawara definitely looked like he’s up to something now. “Before you can gain entry into this room, you gotta grab us some food. It’s a war zone out there, and I’m not sending Kuroo into it again.”

Kuroo snorted and squeezed Sugawara once. “Awww, sugar. I knew you cared.”

They were a cute couple, all things considered. They acted like they’ve been dating for years. Iwaizumi smiled a little to himself and told the that he’d be back soon with snacks. He still felt as though he were intruding, but Suga said it himself that he was welcome. And who can say no to Suga?

As he stepped back into the heat of the party, it hit him like a truck. That’s what you have to expect from parties, he supposed, but he definitely expect to find Oikawa alone in the foyer, nursing a red plastic cup. A part of Iwaizumi told him to go to him, wonder where his man meat is, wonder why he looks so dejected. But he made a deal with Sugawara. The least he could do was follow through with it. He ducked right past him and moved onto the kitchen, grabbing a bowl or two of crackers, nothing the guests wouldn’t miss. A disappearance of a four pack of beer would probably call a bit more attention to his thievery, but it’s a risk he was willing to take. The way this night was going, he was definitely not drunk enough. 

 

~

 

“Oh, shut up. He’s not that bad.”

“I’m not saying  _ he’s  _ bad, but his choice in friends is disgusting.”

“But you could say the same for me. Look at my present company!”

“Oh don’t act like you don’t love me, Sugar.”

“Mmmm. Debateable.” 

Suga was sure that his current position on Kuroo’s lap wasn’t exactly within the normal boundaries of what normal friends do, but he deserved some physical affection tonight. And it wasn’t exactly like Kuroo was complaining. Every so often he would squeeze his legs or drop his head to laugh in Suga’s chest. It was cute. And he was probably very tipsy. Cute, nonetheless. 

Also, it’d be nice to hang out with Iwaizumi. He’d never really gotten the opportunity to talk to him, Iwaizumi usually always shuffled into the context of Oikawa, but he seemed like a genuinely nice guy. He had a vague memory of Kuroo calling him remarkable, and for Kuroo Tetsurou to stoop and compliment a guy without provocation is certainly something. 

“Forget about Oikawa tonight,” Suga said to break the silence. He was pretty sure no one had told Kuroo that yet, but it needed to be said. 

Kuroo’s smile faltered for just a second before he threw on a grin. “Okay. Just for tonight.”

“Good! Now you can treat poor Iwaizumi like he’s his own goddamn person!” 

“You wound me.”

“Iwaizu-who?” came a croaky voice behind them. Kuroo turned his head nonchalantly towards the groggy man on the bed. 

“Oh, look who decided to turn up.” 

Bokuto just grumbled and wiped the sleep from his eyes. Sugawara reached over to push the water pitcher towards him, which he took graciously and nearly chugged the whole thing. It was kind of gross to watch, but you couldn’t look away. He just kept on drinking. A God amongst men. 

“So.” Kuroo really wasn’t about to relent any time soon, was he? “Is there a reason that you snuck off to get piss drunk and left me chasing your sorry ass around the house for a good fifteen minutes, narrowly escaping death by Mori?”

Bokuto mumbles something.

“Hmm? Speak up.”

“It was Oikawa.”

It was silent for a while. Suga wasn’t sure that Kuroo even knew that Oikawa was at his party, and silently hoped, for his sake, that he never would. But it would appear that he was causing much more trouble than he should.

Fuck.

“Fuck.” A rough voice whispered from the door, just loud enough to be heard over the residual sound of partygoers downstairs. Iwaizumi looked guilty, the kind of guilty you find when spot a kid stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. He welcomed himself into the room and dropped the snacks on the floor just in front of Suga, settling down on the carpet as well. 

“So, umm. Bokuto. You found out, I guess.” 

Kuroo looked pissed, and Suga had known him for long enough to know that if this tension persisted for too long, he was gonna let it out on someone. “Found out what? What the fuck is going on here?”

Iwaizumi smiled awkwardly and touched the back of his neck again. Suga supposed he did that whenever he was feeling embarrassed, which was kind of cute, but now wasn’t really the time for noticing the admirable characteristics of the guys around him. 

“He told me a while ago that he’s moving to America. He’s gonna study there for college, I guess. That’s why- That’s why he’s been cutting ties.”

There’s that uncomfortable silence again. It reeked of a lot of people with a lot of things to say but no way how. And of course, it won’t stop until someone pulls themselves together long enough to create a coherent thought and put it in words. Kuroo’s never really had a problem with that.

“You seem awfully fucking calm for a guy who’s not gonna see his shitty best friend for what could be years.”

Iwaizumi frowned. “He’s not… I’ve had time to process this. I’m not over it, of course, but I’ll move on.”

“Oh, fuck, why didn’t I fucking think about that one before?” Kuroo was reaching his breaking point, assuming that he hadn’t already summited. 

Suga took a deep breath and leaned into whisper, “Kuroo, calm down-”

“I’m not going to fucking calm down, Suga. This asshole is acting so condescending, and honestly can he blame him. His best friend is a fucking dickhead who is incapable of remorse.  Oikawa doesn’t deserve jack shit-”

“Oikawa deserves a lot more than you think.” Iwaizumi spoke slowly, his voice dropping an octave as he looked Kuroo dead in the eye. “Say whatever you want about me, but you don’t know Oikawa.”

“I don’t know Oikawa?  _ I  _ don’t know Oikawa. Okay, Iwaizumi, he broke up with me over a goddamn text. He took all my firsts and broke my heart like it was nothing! Like the relationship never even mattered. Listen, he made me look like an idiot for getting upset. And you’re trying to say that he’s a good guy? I-”

“He’s not a good guy. He’s a dick. But he’s been right there next to me my whole life. He accepted me when my own mother couldn’t and he’s worked so hard– _so hard_ to be where he is today. Do you know how many times I’ve had to take him to the hospital because he’s overworked himself in the gym, or how many times I’ve had him cry into my shirt when he didn’t think he was good enough. For fucks sake, do you know how many times I’m comforted him after he hurt you? Sure you dated him. Congratulations. I’ve known him for almost my entire life-”  
“And yet you don’t seem the least bit upset to know that he might be leaving you forever-”

“So he’s leaving me forever! And it hurts like shit! With all due respect, Kuroo, he’s never saved your life. He’s never taken you in when your mom couldn’t handle the death of her own fucking child. With all due respect, Kuroo, you’ve never had to feel completely indebted to him. All he was was a boyfriend-”

“I loved him! I loved him so much-”

“Well guess fucking what, Kuroo? I loved him too.”

Suga’s mouth dropped open. During their conflict, he had found a way to creep off of Kuroo’s lap and onto the bed beside Bokuto. He was currently stuffing chips into his mouth while he watched, offering them to Bokuto every so often, only to be completely ignored in favor of watching the exchange go down. But now, with the air thicker than ever, Bokuto reached over to grab a handful of chips

“No.” Kuroo’s voice dropped. “No, you might have loved him, but I was  _ in  _ love with him. It’s a different thing.”

“I know what I said, Kuroo. I know what I said and I know what I mean.”

“But you’re straight”

Hajime laughed humorlessly, leaning back on the palms of his hands. “First year. I realized that I might not like girls just as much as I like Kuroo. When I found out it took a while to sink in, but I finally told him. He didn’t like me back, of course, but he did more than my mom did to accept me. And that’s all I could ask for.”

It’s quiet for a while, but it seems as though the tension has lifted just a fraction or two. Kuroo’s eyes have softened, and they’re now positioned at a spot on the far wall. He’s lost in thought, Suga guessed. It’s a lot to take in. It was weird, already knowing a giant secret when for the rest of the people in the room it was still a surprise.

“Ummm.” A surprisingly soft voice started. Beside him, Bokuto wrapped himself tighter in the blankets he had covered himself with. “Well, Suga already knows this, but I was in love with him too.”

Kuroo gaped at him.

“Still am, I guess.” He finished with a sad laugh.

Iwaizumi smiled up at him. “Yeah, I remember that. First year, right? Oikawa wouldn’t stop talking about you.”

Bokuto let out a little grin. “He did, did he?”

“Oh, all the time. It was annoying as fuck. I’m sorry that I kept telling him to break it off with you, though, I just didn’t like the idea that he was using this poor kid.”  
“No, no, I’m glad you did. Talk to him. But God, was that a fucking trip.”

“Wait, no, sorry to interrupt,” Kuroo cut in. He was still wearing the most incredulous face Suga had ever seen on him. “But what happened?”

Bokuto’s eyes gleamed. “Bro, I would have told you if it wasn’t top secret, super hush-hush stuff, you know? But okay, so first year Oikawa comes running to me crying, talking about how his best friend just confessed to him and he didn’t know what to do, sorry Iwaizumi,”

“Don’t worry, I know the story. Continue.” 

“And he’s like ‘can I kiss you just to try out all this gay shit’ and I’m like ‘of fucking course, you can try out all this gay shit on me’ and basically we just practiced a ton and made out after practice for a few months. It was lit.”

“Bro.”

“Bro.” 

“That sounds like a fucking romcom, bro.”

“Yeah, you would have loved it, bro.”

“You can bet your handsome, sexy ass that I would have loved it, bro.”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi butt in, “But exactly how many people here have had romantic encounters with Oikawa?”

Kuroo bit his lip. “Three? Out of four?”

“All four, actually.” 

Everyone turned their heads to look at Suga, who blushed instantly. He laughed awkwardly, wringing his fingers and looking directly at the sheets below him. “There was an, umm, an  _ encounter _  in a storage closet at school… where he might have… kissed me.”

“Oh what the fUCK-”

“Wait, Kuroo, calm down, it wasn’t anything more than that.” Suga reached over to push Kuroo’s shoulders down. “We just kissed and that was it. He never really talked to me again.”

“Awww, Suga!” Bokuto pulled Suga into his arms, squishing him like a teddy bear. “All this time you’ve been listening to us talk about all our problems when he treated you just as bad!”

“It’s really not that big of a deal, it’s not like I was in love with him or anything.” Suga enjoyed his hug, though. Bokuto has great arms. 

“I mean, yeah, but he still didn’t have to throw you around like you were an object,” Iwaizumi growled, “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

“You really don’t have to do that,” Suga laughed. And he was laughing. And they were all smiling again. It seemed like any tension had drained from the air.

 

~

 

Iwaizumi was disappointed that he never got to meet these people during high school. They probably would have made life with Oikawa a hell of a lot easier, but then again, he’s not sure if they’d ever get close if it weren’t for Oikawa and this chaotic graduation party. But here they were, four fucked up guys circled around two bowls of snacks with beer still warm in their stomachs. And god, did they look great in this lighting. Bokuto seemed more passionate than he’d ever come off as obnoxious, Suga had a smile that seemed to have been given to him by the gods, and all of Kuroo’s features became well defined. It was kinda beautiful. The moment, he means, not the three guys, but he wouldn’t say that they weren’t beautiful. He was just- oh whatever.

“Wait, Kuroo, you play guitar?” 

Kuroo chuckled in that way he always does when someone is impressed by him. “Yeah. Jealous, Bo?”

“No way, dude. I play the guitar too! We should jam sometime!”

“Yeah, I guess that’d be chill.”

“I play bass,” Iwaizumi added. Bokuto and Kuroo both turned to him with wicked grins. “I don’t know if we could still play together, though. Different instruments, and all.” 

“Nah, that’d be wicked!” Bokuto looked delighted, and it was refreshing to see someone so passionate about what they loved, though that wasn’t rare when it came to Bokuto. We should all play together something. Just chill. Hang out in my basement. All that stupid cliche shit.”

Kuroo leaned in close to Bokuto’s ear. “Shouldn’t we ask the fourth person in the room if he wants to join us?”

Suga looked horrified.

“Yeah, yeah! Suga, do you play any instruments?”

“No.”

“Oh, Sugar, I know for a fact-”

“I do not play an instrument. I will not play an instrument. Shut the fuck up, Kuroo.”

“It’ll be fun! We could bond over it!”

“Bokuto, I appreciate what you’re trying to say but-”

“Sugawara Koushi, if you don’t tell these lovely gentlemen what you like to play I’ll have to take drastic action. I know where you’re ticklish. Don’t test me-”

“OKAY!” Kuroo and Bokuto shut their mouths. “Okay.” 

Suga squeezed his fingers together. “I might… play the drums?”

“DUDE!” Suga nearly jumped in the air at Bokuto’s outburst. “You know what this means, right?”

Everyone stared at him with empty faces.

“We can start a band!”

Iwaizumi laughed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Bokuto. Maybe we’ll play together a few times and see how it goes.” Bokuto huffed but agreed, making sure to cross his arms to further express his disappointment. 

“Awww, sugar! Please don’t give me the silent treatment!” Kuroo had managed to pull Suga into his lap again. Suga was pointedly looking at the ceiling. “If you’re gonna be mad, at least talk to me about it.”

Suga scowled, yet relented. “You know that I don’t like playing in front of people. You know that I get anxious. You know that I freeze up  _ and yet _ you still forced me to sign up to play with a bunch of people.” 

“It’ll be for the best, you know!”

“Yeah, I guess I know, Kuroo. Just… be a little more considerate.”

“You guys are a really cute couple.” 

Fuck. Shit. He shouldn’t have said that.

Iwaizumi clasped a hand in front of his mouth like he was a first grader, staring terrified at where Sugawara and Kuroo sat. He really, really shouldn’t have said that.

The red on Suga’s face rose straight up from his neck to his ears like a cartoon character. He jumped out of Kuroo’s lap and ran directly to the other side of the room, sputtering the whole way. Kuroo just laughed as he watched him go. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t worry, he’s just shy.” Kuroo had that loving smile on his face again. It suited him. “We’re just friends, been friends since the start of high school, but nothing more than that. Suga’s really special, you know? It’s hard not to love him.” He shook himself out of his haze. “But it’s whatever. What I’m really excited to see is how good you really are at base.”

“It’s not that impressive, but probably better than you are at guitar.”

Kuroo chuckled. “It’s on.” 

Bokuto looked between them, confused but also a little hyped. It’s not often that you see a manly brawl. 

“Don’t fight,” Suga called from the corner, “If you break something Kuroo will trick me into cleaning it up in the morning.”

“Anything for you, buttercup,” Kuroo yelled back.

“Shut the fuck up, you dweeb.”

Iwaizumi watched the two, unable to keep the fondness out of his eyes. It’s weird, this whole night was weird, and of course any night is weird at a party. But this particular moment feels significant. Like, you know when something happens and you can just tell that it’ll resonate with you for the rest of your life. Because it doesn’t feel real. It could have never happened to you, and yet it just did, and yet it still feels like a dream, but you’re glad it isn’t. This was one of those moments. Iwaizumi wasn’t sure yet if this night was the start of anything. A new group of friends, a new band, a new way of life, whatever. But he was extremely grateful that he was the one experiencing it. 

Bokuto, Iwaizumi, Kuroo, and Suga. They were an odd collection of people. But somehow, all smushed together, they made a good group.

And it was anybody’s best guess how it’d pay off. It’s time, Iwaizumi supposed, to sit back and just enjoy it. 


End file.
